Disclaimer: Brad Kern. Aaron Spelling. Do you see Amanda in there anywhere? No? Didn't think so, SO BACK OFF!

WARNING: Rated R for language: AKA, Chris' mouth. If you REALLY don't like the 'F' word, email me and I'll edit it. And Don't read the Dedication, either. DEDICATION RATED 'R', too.

This chapter is dedicated to Kayla Smith: Kayla, you'd still be alive if you just put on your fucking seatbelt, you idiot. I mean, come on. How hard can it possibly be? You put it on, you still go to college, you still be first chair clarinetist in band, your parents are still sane, your friends are still happy, you're still ALIVE. It's a win-win situation, dumbass! But noooo. You have to live life on the edge by not putting a freaking strap over your freaking chest; you're so brave-- NOT. Damn, girl. Seriously. (I know, I know, not a happy dedication, but you've pissed me off, you selfish bitch.)

READERS: I usually don't do dedications in stories, but I had to do this one so you will WEAR YOUR FREAKIN SEATBELT, or else one of your friends will do a dedication just like the above, and do you really want to be called a selfish bitch (yes, guys, too-- you should see what I called my boyfriend in his dedication) on the internet? Not good for a rep…

Piper and Leo sat on their queen sized bed, holding hands for mutual support. It was hard, even after everything they'd done since, to believe that Chris was their son. That they had abused him. Thinking back to their neurotic whitelighter, it was hard to believe that he was even the same person as this sixteen year old, let alone their mistreated son. And thinking back to their angelic baby, it was hard to believe he'd grow up to be this Source. This Source that sent titans to smash innocent little children, innocent men and women who had no power to defend themselves… It was hard to believe that that angelic little baby would grow up to torture his own little brother… It was all just hard.

"Leo…" Piper began softly, finding the room's 80's styled décor fascinating as she spoke. "How did we screw up so bad?"

Leo just shook his head, swallowing hard. "I really don't know, Piper… I just can't believe that we weren't under some kind of spell… I mean, I saw my future self, and that man… that look in his eyes was not me. I just know it."

"But you know Prue," Piper protested, unable to let her guilt go. "If she said she looked for everything, she looked for everything."

Piper had already told him about her and Prue's discussion. He had listened silently, eyes clouded in contemplation the entire time. Then there had been silence.

"Well… she must have missed something," Leo argued, a hint of desperation in his voice. "I just can't believe that we'd do th…aaat… Chris?" He finished, perplexed, as Chris orbed in out of nowhere, looking just as confused as they were.

"What the--" the boy began, but froze once he saw who he was in the room with. His mien suddenly screamed of shock and suppressed panic.

"Chris," Piper instantly began, seeing the unmistakable body language and jumping to her feet, holding up her hands out of pure reflex, only to find that she'd already screwed up.

"No!" Chris shouted, throwing out his palms and sending both Piper and Leo flying through the air out of his own reflexes. That done, he instantly started backing up, trying to flame out, trying to orb out, anything, but nothing worked. The entire room had been magically sealed. Obviously Prue's doing.

Piper and Leo clambered back to their feet, not realizing immediately why they were starting to sweat. Then Leo's face shone in a very 'uh-oh' way. Piper was about to inquire what he'd just understood, when it dawn on her, too. Powers were tied to emotions. Chris was a fire deemer, as in, he had power over fire, smoke , and heat. If they didn't calm him down soon, it was going to get very hot in there, by the look of things.

"Chris, it's okay! We're not going to hurt you," Leo said hastily, trying not to make any sudden movements as he straightened himself after standing up. "We told you-- we're from the past. We haven't done anything yet, and we are not going to. Please, believe it. We don't wish anyone but demons harm."

Piper nodded as calmly as she could, trying to look Chris in the eyes behind his sunglasses and finding it somewhat difficult. How was she supposed to give him reassuring looks if she couldn't make eye contact?

But then again, she doubted it would have worked even if he didn't have them on, as he wasn't even paying attention. His only concern seemed to be finding a way out, and apparently his intangibility wasn't working, seeing as he had his back pressed very firmly against the wall now and he wasn't falling through.

Piper desperately searched for something to say, something that would make him stop trying to back away from them, even if it meant going through a very solid wall. But no words were coming to mind.

Now Chris was shaking his head as though trying to deny that this was happening, then raking his fingers through his hair in distress. He stopped trying to get through the wall and started pacing, obviously trying to get in control of his emotions, hands continuously raking through his white/brown locks, acting oblivious to their presence, but clearly knowing they were there. Piper could swear she could hear him muttering, "No, no, no, no, no, no," again and again, his agitation increasing with every second he was trapped in the room with the two people he probably feared most in the entire world. And Piper's own distress was climaxing every moment she couldn't think of something calming to say.

"Chris, sweetie, please--" she began, but stopped as Chris froze and his hands went to cover his face when she said 'sweetie'. Then the pacing restarted, the distress continued, and the temperature started to spike dangerously. Sweat dripped from her forehead down her neck and dampened her shirt as her mind raced. Leo went to the door and tried to wrench it open despite the fact that he knew it was magically sealed. He kept wrenching at it for several seconds before standing aside, giving Piper room to blast it. He knew she wouldn't force Chris to stay.

Piper raised her hands and flicked her fingers. The explosion bounced off the door and hit the floor, scorching the rug. She tried again. Then again. Then again, all with the same result. She swung her gaze back to her distraught son, finding him not even noticing their struggle.

Piper breathed heavily in frustration and rising, unexplainable panic. This was all happening too fast. It couldn't have been even 24 hours ago that they found out Chris wasn't a full whitelighter. Now they knew so much… so much. And they were having to deal with it at lightening speed, least they send their son into a nervous breakdown.

"Chris, please! I promise we are not going to hurt you, so please, calm down!" the Charmed One cried at last, feeling the walls start to close in on her. "We told you, we are from the past where you haven't even been born--"

"So what!" Chris burst at last, stopping his almost frantic pacing and throwing his arms out at his sides in reaction to unfathomable emotions. "We're supposed to be best buds and go have tea and cookies? How the hell did you think I would react? I already get that you're from the past and you don't know me, I really do, but what the hell do you want me to say? What do you want me to do? I don't understand what you want from me!"

Piper and Leo both stood blinking, shocked. Chris flung out his hands again and everything in the room went crashing into the walls, yet Piper got the vague impression it was unintentional. He was pacing again, though not so much in distress and panic, as in frustration at being trapped in the room with people that clearly unnerved him.

Piper watched with glassy eyes and pulled Leo's hand into hers without even realizing it. He gave hers a gentle squeeze of understanding. "Chris…" Piper murmured, unable to bare seeing him in such turmoil any longer. "Please, don't…"

"Please don't what, Piper?" he demanded, stopping pacing and glaring at the wall in front of him instead of at his mother to his left.

Piper inhaled sharply at the tone of his voice and use of her first name, wounded. Tears pricked at her eyes and she tried to fight them back in order to answer her son in the calmest, gentlest voice possible. But it was hurting her so badly for some reason… of course he wasn't going to call her 'mom' since he didn't love his own Piper in this time, and she wasn't even his mother, yet. And of course there was going to be some anger, some snap to his voice. Nobody would be happy about being ripped from their comfort zones and placed into awkward, painful and emotional situations.

She opened her mouth, tried to speak, but stopped as she realized, one: she wouldn't be able to, and two: because Chris abruptly faced the ceiling. At first she thought it was just the general motion of frustration, then she realized… there were new tracks of tears coursing down his cheeks. Her son was crying silently, and he was hating himself for it. Hating himself for displaying such weakness in front of his parents.

Her heart felt like it might split from aching so badly. "Chris," she whispered, letting her own tears fall, now. "Chris, honey, it's okay…"

But Chris shook his head, looking away at the wall opposite her and Leo. "No it's not," he said, voice taut with emotion, "because you're… you're…" he motioned at them with his hand, seemingly trying to say something but unable to find words. "And I was talking to you and you were… were normal… you're good," he ended with something like a suppressed sob.

Piper and Leo shared looks. Piper saw that her husband was crying as well… and he didn't really understand what was Chris' huge problem, either. She turned to look at her struggling son again. "Chris, whatever is wrong with us, we'll fix. We want to keep being good so we'll never hurt you--"

"But you do," he choked, finally letting his knees give in and he folded to the floor, sobs racking his body. "You've always been good people, always will be… you're proof of that… Wyatt's proof of that…"

"But you disprove that," Leo forced out in a firm voice. "If we hurt you, then we become bad people…"

But Chris shook his head, tears still finding their way down his cheeks, though he had stopped sobbing. Presently, he was leaning against the wall, looking hopeless and resigned, but no less assertive in his quiet contradiction. "No… once a good person, always a good person… I just… I just deserved… I had to have deserved it. You're not bad people so you wouldn't… wouldn't do anything wrong… So it wasn't abuse… It was just… just discipline…"

Okay, so maybe his voice wasn't all that assertive. But he seemed to be resigned to believe it, and that made Piper's heart clench in horror and disgust. "Chris, no, sweetheart," she breathed, aghast. "When a parent uses food as leverage, it stops being discipline and starts being neglect and abuse, baby. That's not right, even if you wrecked my car or pushed one of your brothers down the stairs. It's not right."

Chris' eyes found hers from behind the sunglasses, and she could sense the vulnerability in him, even if his voice was merely weak when he asked, "… then why did you do it?"

Piper was momentarily at a loss for words. Again. Then she took the honest route and voiced, "I don't know, Chris. I really don't know."

"But we're going to find out," said Leo, determination flaring in his green-grey eyes. "We are going to find out and we won't let you be hurt again. We still have time to change it, and by God, we will."

For a moment, Chris had been looking at them as they spoke, seemingly trying to assure himself they weren't lying, but now he looked away. Piper watched in concern, and wasn't eased when Chris drew his knees up to him, wrapping his arms around them in a subconscious motion of insecurity. He sill didn't respond to the oath, but was apparently "zoned out".

"Chris," Leo said slowly, after several more moments of silence, also watching his son in concern. "What do you think?"

There was silence again. Chris didn't look at them again for what felt like hours, and when he did, it was reluctant, as if he wasn't ready to see them again after what he'd been thinking. "I… I think… I think I want to leave," he whispered, barely audibly and looking away again to hide the renewed tears. His knuckles were white, they were gripping the hem of his pants legs so tightly.

Piper and Leo stared at him yet again. They didn't know what to do. They couldn't get out of this room, but they felt so compelled to let him go, let him find comfort again, it hurt. Piper looked up to Leo, eyes shining with fresh, unshed tears. "Leo…" she murmured. "What do we do? I can't… we can't keep him here against his will… it's hurting him."

"I know," Leo replied just as quietly. "But Prue just isn't letting anyone out until we're one big happy family!"

"The hell she won't," growled Piper suddenly, inwardly panicking as she saw Chris' foot begin to tap rapidly, nervously. She was not going to hurt her son anymore, physically or mentally. "Prudence Shannon Halliwell! I know you can hear me! Get this damn spell off this room, or so help me, you will regret it! You are hurting your own charge, your nephew, so stop it!"

There was silence. For a split second, the notion that maybe Prue wasn't going to react crossed Piper's mind, but suddenly the walls glowed in gold, then faded back to their normal white hue. The spell was lifted.

With a sigh of relief, Piper looked up in time to see Chris slide silently through the wall. She watched the spot he'd vanished through for another moment, then turned to face her husband. "Leo…" she began, a slight hint in her voice.

Leo met her gaze and smiled wryly. "I know, Piper, and we are going to find out why we hurt him. I meant it."

Piper didn't back down. "I know. So what do you say we wake up my lazy sisters and get working on it?"

"I say, the sooner the better."

Chris slid through the wall easily using his intangibility and stopped on the other side, leaning against it for support. One word was finding itself embedded in his mind, and it started with an F. He was finding it hard to think of anything else, besides that one word.

For what felt like hours, he merely leaned against the wall, eyes closed and forcing his breathing into a regular pattern. It was all he could do. He couldn't even dare to think about what had happened, about what any of it meant. He knew it would hurt, and the last thing he needed right now was more pain. He just hoped they would leave him alone the rest of their stay. And why were they still here, anyway? They had gotten their artifact thingy. What else were they waiting for? Certainly not him… they wouldn't care enough to stick around in the future just to try and 'fix' him. There had to be something else…

Oh no! Stop that! No thinking about that, at all! He instantly yelled at his mind once he realized what it was doing. But too late. He was already thinking about his parents.

Chris hated his mind. He really wanted another one-- one that didn't hate its owner, because his mind must have hated him. Once he started thinking about one thing he didn't want to, it automatically started pulling up other things… other painful thoughts… painful memories… everything he didn't want, just out of spite. Or so he figured. He couldn't think of any other reason it wouldn't just do what he asked. It's not like he asked a lot of his mind. Just don't think about anything to do with Piper and Leo. And no bad memories from Wyatt's dungeons or cells, either. And that was the extent of his requests.

Of course, now that he reminded his mind of what not to think about, that automatically set it off thinking about all the things he'd listed. And there goes that 'F' word again.

I'm going to send you to obedience school as soon as this is all over, he thought at it, but he couldn't even hear his own thoughts over the sudden growing roar of emotions and memories. Pain. So much pain… Free Style… Mom and Dad… their hate… everyone's hate… Wyatt's eyes… the total absence of warmness… the pain…

A wave of flashbacks hit him like a tidal wave, sending the boy staggering backwards into the wall again, hands covering his face tightly. No. No, no, no. The arrow going through Free Style's heart… Wyatt shooting Chris through the wrist with a Darklighter arrow and refusing to heal it until he stopped trying to destroy the room he'd been given… Leo hitting him with the Elders' lightening bolts for back talking Piper… Piper pushing him so hard he went straight through the banister on the stairs and fell twelve feet to the floor in the living room… Prue slapping him across the face for disrespecting Jessie's memory… Jessie falling to the ground… lifeless…

The recollections just kept coming until he wasn't sure which way was up, which way was down. Fighting back tears, fight back the scream that was rising in his chest, Chris threw out his hands from his face and grabbed the wall for support. "Fuck," he said aloud, voice strained and he squeezed his eyes shut tightly, trying to block out the fear, the pain… the memories. But it wasn't working. Everything just kept coming, slamming him, one after another, with the force of concrete cinder blocks.

Swearing again, Chris orbed out in an explosion of multicolored lights, disregarding the Elders' rules against it, and rematerialized a moment later in his aunt Paige's potion room. Swallowing back as many emotions as he could, he began making a potion; his normal grace for the art was completely gone as he reached clumsily for the ingredients, unable to see everything through the memories in his inner eye.

Wyatt, throwing caution to the winds to orb into the cellar and bring Chris food and water, heal his shattered ribs… Wyatt, much older and shattering his ribs for visiting the Resistance… the commander-demon throwing him through a concrete wall, cracking his skull and crushing everything else as the remainder of the wall came crashing down on him… Wyatt, stabbing him in the stomach with a poisoned atheme for taking yet another city under his protection… Wyatt's cold, angry blue eyes.

In a rush of anger and hopelessness from the latest memory, Chris threw the bottle of wraith essence across the room, shattering it into a million little pieces, and sank to the floor, breathing shallowly, raggedly. He couldn't do this. This was just the last straw. He couldn't survive this war. His heart was too involved, and that always made everything one hundred times worse. He was fighting his brother. His brother!

Wyatt Matthew Halliwell, the blonde boy only two and half years older than himself; the boy who had risked everything for him growing up… the one that had orbed him food and such when Piper had him locked in the cellar longer than a day… the brother who had taught him how to speak and write in English… the one that had encouraged his music and come to every concert without fail… Wyatt was his brother. And now they were fighting each other just because of their beliefs. This wasn't right.

"Oh God, Christine, what happened?" a voice broke through the silence of the room in pure horror.

Chris didn't have to open his eyes to know who it was, and know that it was someone he could trust. "Mandrake root and syrup of flame," he forced out through the pressure that was bearing down on his very soul. Or what was left of his soul… Oh God, not again…

He could hear the rattling of vials as his uncle fumbled through them for the ingredients he'd named. There was swearing then a loud bang, then coughing. Chris couldn't even smell the smoke that was obviously covering the room. Jessie poking his zail-raven out of spite and him gasping in sudden anguish then poking her wolf cub right back… The light in Jessie's eyes being smothered as her beloved mother slapped her across the face for accidentally breaking a plate…

He felt his uncle place a vial of the potion in his hand and empathically felt worry and fear radiating from the man like a microwave. With his eyes still screwed shut, Chris downed the potion in one gulp and waited for it to come into effect.

Gradually, the emotions began to fade and the latest memory of lying, starved, in his bedroom Wyatt had given him dimmed into nothing, and he could see his uncle's face clearly for the first time. Too relieved to do anything else, Chris leaned his head against the wall with a small smile. "Thanks Aunt Nicole."

Cole Turner smiled wryly in return. "You can repay me by telling me what kind of magical fix-it I just gave my niece, and why he needed it."

"He-- I just lost control of my… mind… for a minute," Chris replied, realizing how strange that sounded. He sat back up, considering what he was he saying with the critical eye. Then decided he didn't care. "…Anyway, the potion was just like a magical… sedative or something. To make my powers… calmer so they'll listen to me more. Does that make any sense?"

Cole raised an eyebrow. "Like a magical lite beer?"

Chris' eyes went round with thought. "Exactly!"

Cole snorted when he realized what Chris was thinking. "Nope, don't even think about it. Not only do Phoebe and Paige prohibit alcohol on their premises, you are way underage."

"Nicole," Chris complained. "Seventeen is close enough!"

"To twenty-one? I don't think so, Christine," Cole sing-songed back, giving him a hand up.

Chris glared good-naturedly, accepting the hand. "That's it. Henry's my favorite uncle, now."

"Henry wouldn't let you drink, either. He's a parole officer, Smart One."

Chris crossed his arms, glowering. "Don't remind me."

Cole chuckled, throwing his arm over Chris' shoulders and leading the boy out of the potions room easily. "Oh, yeah… happy late birthday, kid."

Chris smiled wryly. "Thanks… so how is everyone?"

"Well, we're all still alive, thank God," came the not-so-carefree response. "There was a really close call with the witch hunters last week. Apparently a few had managed to find their way into this place and rally together other magic-haters. Idiots. Didn't even realize magic is the only thing keeping their lives safe from Wyatt right now."

"I don't get them," Chris said, openly frustrated. "I mean, it's not like we all don't have enough trouble just staying off of Wyatt's radar without adding 'keep witch-hunters in check' to the freaking list!"

"There isn't anything to get," Cole said quietly. "All it is is simple, common hatred. Hatred for what's different. Hatred for what's unknown. Hatred for what they can't understand."

"Or stereotyping. A witch is what is killing their families. Friends. Driving them out of their homes and jobs…" Chris' voice trailed off and he gazed into space… Until Cole stopped in tracks, making Chris stop as well and turn around, quizzical.

"Christine, for once in your life, would you please act your age?" Cole demanded.

Chris raised his eyebrows. "What? Be a teenager? I've already gone and frenched my ex-assassin and you won't give me a beer, what else could I possibly do?"

There was a pause as Cole stared at him, then, "You did what to Bianca!"

"Piper, are you sure summoning your future self is a good idea?" asked Paige tentatively for the hundredth time as she lit the last candle for the séance to take place in this dormitory room. When Piper and Leo both just threw her evil looks, she held up her hands in surrender. "What? I'm just saying… she sounds kind of scary…"

"I know what you're saying, Paige, I do, but I honestly think that I'd come to my senses in the afterlife," Piper explained again. "And if I just realized that I'd abused my son for the last nine or so years, I'd want to know why. So she probably does."

"Alright," said Phoebe heavily, coming forward and leading her sisters in taking hands. "Let's get this over with."

Piper nodded, but Paige held up her hand again in the 'hold on' motion. "Wait. Do you think Chris should be here for this? I mean, he might not believe you if you just blamed it on… whoever it was… without proof. I know I'd think you were just trying to point fingers."

There was a pause as Piper and Leo considered. "Could we really ask him to see her again?" asked Piper, referring to her future self as a completely separate person. After all, she kind of was.

Phoebe snorted. "Prue obviously did. But from the way you told us, there was no asking involved."

Piper gave her a look that immediately had her amused expression wiped clean. Rolling her eyes slightly, Piper looked back up to Leo. "Honey? What do you think?"

Leo considered. After a long moment, he sighed. "I think," he said, weighted, "that he deserves to hear anything she has to say, if you are sure she is really changed. My future self was pretty much… er… dead, for a few months and he didn't change at all."

"But I know I did," Piper said firmly. "So how do we get a hold of Chris? Can we still call him?"

"I dunno," said Paige shrugging. "We are his charges. Let's try."

They tried. And tried again. Then some more times.

Chris blushed under his uncle's disbelieving, shocked expression. "Don't even ask," he mumbled, referring to the 'I kissed Bianca on the lips for about five minutes' thing. Then… Chris' brow wrinkled in confusion. "What the…"

"What?" asked Cole instantly, seeing the change of demeanor.

"I think… my parents are calling me… and Phoebe and Paige…" he said slowly, still frowning. It was no lie that his whitelighter powers had never been great; he could only sense charges when they called.

Cole looked taken off guard. "Your parents? As in Piper, too? How is that… possible?"

"Oh yeah. I forgot to tell you that they came from the past. Anyway… they're not shutting up…"

"So are you going to go?" asked Cole, seemingly not surprised that the people who had abused his nephew (or niece, whatever :grins: ) were here from the past and obviously in contact with him.

Chris looked at him as though to say, 'Hell no-- Who do you think you're talking to?'

"Go," said Cole firmly. When Chris just glared at him from behind the sunglasses, he rolled his eyes. "Christine Periwinkle Halliwell, get your butt orbing or flaming or whatever it is you do nowadays, now!"

Chris arched an eyebrow. "Why didn't you make my last name feminine, Nicole Julia Turner?"

"You forget, Christine, that the last three hundred or so years of Halliwells have all been women."

Pause. Then, "I hate you, Turnip."

"Turnip?"

"Turner. Turnip. Get it?"

"Whatever. Get your butt moving!"

Chris glared. Cole glared right back. At length, Chris sighed in frustration. "Fine, but if I get killed, I'm haunting your ass." And with that, the seventeen year old orbed in his unique, explosive way.

For a moment, Cole stared at the spot he'd vanished and briefly wondered why it worked like that. Then he sighed softly. "Piper Halliwell," he said to seemingly thin air. "You better not make me regret that."

There was a gentle, cool breeze in response.

Yeah, sorry for all you people who are tired of Cole being Phoebe's husband when obviously he won't be, thanks to that season finale that showed who she marries. That 'other dude' is a fruitcake, if you ask me. I like Cole much better. Anyway, thank you for reviewing and please, do so now, too! I'll try to wrap this up in another four or maybe five chapters, 'cause I NEVER freamed of it being this long... Anyway... REVIEW!